Solitude seemed to engrave the
memory further into my open mind as I lie in the sweetly comforting bed. It all
seemed like it was a cataclysmic eruption of grape soda on a white t-shirt; the
cactus leaf, the tawny color of the desert, and the unforgettable skies that
still seemed to plague my heart with a constant yearning for its brisk wind. I
could hardly wait for her arrival, this woman, her face a secret to my eyes.
She promised me a visit if I were to return to my homelands and the owl late
last night whispered in my dreams of her visit to me this afternoon.
Alianza was a crazy character for
even the most radical of eyes. She wore a black bandana across her face which
matched her two black braids. Her dress shirt was ruffled with the anxiety and
passion that she too stimulated from within herself. The bright colors from her
skirt pounced out, even with the layer of dust and age, so that you could think
of nothing else but a good memory and strength. She became irrepressible and
forever remembered as soon as she walked into your presence. Alianza promised
that when she died, her body would become a visible bridge to even those who
didn’t believe.
I first met her at the bottom of
the cactus leaf and she became my comrade within an instant of her speech.
Everything starts and ends with Alianza, but she is neither at the end or
beginning of my story. She is my infinite uniting force with the two worlds
that perplexed my spirit before the introduction of the city of the gods. She
was and is in everything that makes the story what it is.
The morning before I met her, my
mother woke me up in accordance with the schedule of Sunday mass. My mother
agreed to blue jeans, as long as I wore the nice shirt she bought me from the
little Mexican store. The shirt made me look like I was just showcased in one
of those Mexican festivals. Mass was as dull as the carpet in an airport
terminal, but the stain glass figures of the saints seemed to amuse me enough.
Before I knew it we were saying “peace be with you” to our neighbors and
waiting to take the bread and wine. Like an unwanted remembrance of a bad
memory, I started to think about fried bacon, juicy eggs and toast. Mom always
made me wait until after mass for breakfast, I was even denied a cup of coffee.
After receiving the bread, I knelt on the old cushioned bench and said an “Our
Father” and asked God to bless me with the gift of time travel so that I could
fast forward to me sitting in front a large plate of food. I’m glad my mother
wasn’t like the other busy-body mothers that had to talk for hours after mass,
she was glad to go home and relax as well.
As soon as we entered the humble
doorway of my little blue house on top of the hill my mother sent me down the
hill with the garbage in hand. As I left out the door I last remember her
lifting the pots from the cupboards for the bacon and eggs. I was glad to keep
myself out of the house and occupied while she cooked because the smell of
bacon cooking would only drive me crazy for its finish. The driveway was steep
so I had to walk down very carefully. Concentrating heavily on not falling and
my hungry stomach, I failed to notice the large strange object hidden in the
dark leaves of our avocado tree. The avocado tree was old, its leaves were
large and its avocados were my mom’s favorite snack. The sound of a big bird
started to circle the skies, and I stopped to engage in a little bird watching.
At first I thought I heard it from the East, and then it sounded from the South
and then uniformly cried from both the West and North. I thought maybe there
was a whole flock of birds nearby, then a solid cry from the avocado tree
sounded. I looked over but the leaves had herded so thickly on the branches I
could not make out a figure at all. I hurried down to the garbage can and
dumped the bag inside the can, forgetting of course to lock the top back down.
I ran to the bottom of the tree to see if I could see a bird and as I grew
nearer, the edges of a large nest came into sight. I stopped for a minute
surprised by the enormity of the edges of the nest and marveled at the large
object that had not been there before. I drew myself closer to the tree, until
I was at the bottom of the trunk. My eyes widened so much that I thought my
eyeballs might fall out, good thing I was looking upward. The entire inside
branches of the tree had been hollowed out, the branches made a perfect circle
around the large eagle nest. The Eagle had taken notice to my presence and we
looked at each other sharing a moment of curiosity in each other. The eagle had
dark shimmering brown feathers that extended over the nest’s edge, the white
feathers and large yellow beak at its head was stunning. I had never seen nor
read of an Eagle being so large before. I turned to get my mother; however the
Eagle taking notice to my escape drew up its gorgeous wings, freezing me into a
state of awe. I backed away from the tree slowly but it was too late; the Eagle
danced forward claiming to seize me with its claws. Grasping gently upon my
little arms I became captive to its large clawed feet as it lifted me into the
air.
The excitement curiously out-weighed
my anxiety and fear as my little blue house on top of the hill became a tiny
dot in the ground. Rain clouds filled the air, pursuing at a rapid pace towards
us, ultimately to embellish us within them. The grey fog and little sunlight
gave me only enough to make out the bodies of the Eagle and I. As soon as the
reality of the situation started to become apparent I found myself fretful,
shaking passionately, the Eagle feeling this began to sing. Even though I knew
that this could not be right, I lost myself in the song for a moment.
Mexica Tiahui Tonantzin Tlalli
Mexica Tiahui Tonantzin Tlalli
Mexica Tiahui Tonantzin Tlalli
Tonantzin Tonantzin Tonantzin
Tlalli
Tonantzin Tonantzin Tonantzin
Tlalli
Tonantzin Tonantzin Tonantzin
Tlalli
In the spirit of Cuauhtemoc, with a
teocuicatl
For this one that I bring to the
chinampas
The cemanahuac,
The land of her people,
Mestiza, mixed with oppressor and
oppressed blood
She is me,
And I ask you to bless her…
“You speak?” I asked, barely able
to comprehend the question myself.
“As well as you can hear me,”
replied the Eagle.
“Where are you taking me?” I
managed to stumble out in a meek tone.
“Along time ago, there existed a
belief of land, a promised land to your ancestors. I am taking you to this
promised land called, Aztlan.”
“Aztlan? Isn’t that where Mexico is
now?”
“No, it is the land of the seven
Nahua peoples, elevated to a celestial location that only a few spirits know
the location of. This is why the clouds have come to veil your eyes to its
path.”
“You are not like any Eagle I’ve
seen before, nor any that I’ve read about. How is it that you are so large and
can have speech?”
“It began a long time ago as I
began to sow a set of wings onto the design of a Reboso. As a child we fled
Mexico, in fear of our death, my parents were political. Coming to the United
States I missed my abuelitos so much that I dreamed every night that I could
fly to them. I sang old indigenous songs and wove Rebosos so as not to forget
everything that my abuelitos had taught me. One time my mother told me a story
of a young warrior who once dreamed of saving his people from self-destruction
and division. Tribes had become hostile towards each other and the blood from
their war was polluting the Earth. He asked Quetzalcoatl to bless his arms to
transform themselves on their own accord to wings so that he could fly over the
lands of his people. He gathered the dirt of the Mother Earth, Tonantzin, into
a blanket, and from the skies he scattered the dirt onto the heads of the people
of the land. The dirt was soft in texture and smelled of fresh ground, ground
that was ready to be planted with seed. As soon as the dirt was dropped onto
the heads of the people, they came to realize what they were doing to the land.
All ceased their activities and began to pray for forgiveness from Tonantzin. I
wove each line of the story into the wings and soon the Reboso was the most
elaborate of designs that I had ever seen. My mother begged me to wear the
Reboso and as the fabric touched my skin it transformed my arms to wings. My
mother cried in shock, and then grabbed my scared face in her hands. She told
me that I was destined to be this warrior and that I was given these wings to
carry the dirt of Tonanzin back to its land and remind the people of what we
are doing to Mother Earth. Before I was half-human, returning to visit my
abuelitos every now and then, and then after realizing my past to its fullest
extent, I chose to be just Eagle.”
The Eagle continued to sing, and as
if my heart knew the song it drummed inside my chest to the beat of the Eagle’s
voice. We continued to travel in this cloud for a long time until it became
dark, only then did we descend downwards. The comfort of light was a luxury
lost, and the air of night blinded my sight to even seeing my own hand in front
of me. Laying me on a soft cushion, I could barely make out the red color of
the soft object I was laid upon. The Eagle seemed to perch himself next to me,
or so it felt. I did not know what to do, I was exhausted from the commotion
and I felt my eyes become like bricks wanting to close shut. I reasoned that if
I should fall asleep maybe I would awake back home, and would see that this was
all just a dream. I had no other choice than to submit to rest. That night I
had a dream of a woman, dressed like one of those women at the pow-wow I went
to last summer, she danced from side to side, displaying her woman-made wings
of Eagle feathers.
The stiff morning light woke me
from my dream; however it was the image before me that woke me from my sleep. I
jumped from surprise and end up rolling off the soft red cushion I slept on.
The Eagle was gone and before me stood a large green plant of some sort with
tons of red cushioned balls at the bottom of its stump. I could not make out the
extent of this green plant because I was harbored under its thick green pads
that stretched very far. I started to make out the structure of a large cactus,
due partly to the long narrow needles that came out from the green pads.
Astonished my heart seemed to stop and the cold air met the sweat dripping from
my brow. Without changing my disposition a sound emerged from the edge of one
of the red cushions. It was like a rattling sound, recognizing the desert
environment and cactus plant I imagined the danger perpetuating from the origin
of that sound. In deed it was a serpent emerging from the red cushion.
“Is the Eagle gone?” he said.
I heard the question come from the
serpent’s mouth like clear day and could not manage a response.
He continued, “I suppose Eagle has
brought you here for a reason, otherwise he would have ate me before he left.
Damn him and his mind games! My life is only existent for his vain desires. But
never mind, this is not your plight. What is your name?”
I stood with full comprehension
that I needed to respond this time, but all I could manage was a “Huh?”
“Never mind, let’s start the climb
before the herd of White Horsemen approach”
“White Horsemen?” I asked
“You will see.” He then proceeded
to give me further instruction,” The needles will rise out of the cactus pad as
you climb so that you will have something to grab onto and step on.”
Sure enough, as I climbed the stump
of the cactus, needles pricked out of the leaf and guided me behind the
slithering serpent. The climb was exhilarating and I could barely catch my
breath as I got closer to the true sight of the cactus plant. It was huge, and
as far as I could see the leaf that we were approaching was at least 300 feet
high, with no end in sight. As I reached the bottom of the cactus leaf a loud
thunder of horse hooves shook the structure that I stood on. I looked back to
see if I could make out the commotion but instead was interrupted by a hand on
my shoulder.
“Touch the leaf of the cactus,
quick before they come.”
I turned to see the face of
Alianza, with whom I had no idea of at the moment. Her touch and voice gave me
courage enough to extend my hand to the soft leaf structure. The moment that I
touched the skin of the leaf it seemed to take on a life of its own. Bending
downwards, forming a bridge, it stretched out further than I could make out.
The sharp needles started descending into the leaf’s body and without looking
back I ran onto this bridge. I could feel that the woman and serpent were
behind me. Running from an unknown harm I worried of its closeness to me. I
finally turned and was taken back by a large white horse with a half figure of
a human male attached to its backside. This White Horseman came with fire in
his eyes and gun in hand. He pointed it at me and declared my submission back
to the bottom of the cactus leaf. The woman, Alianza, placed her hand on my
shoulder once again to reassure my safety.
“They can not pass” she said with
dignity.
Before I could ask a single
question the White Horseman galloped onto the leaf without fear. The faster and
closer he came to me the more frozen I became. I could not move. My fear was
suddenly surprised with the ascending needles that shot up from the leaf and
into the chest of this beast. Looking down at me, he died in this a horrid
position.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“Who are you?” is all I could
manage to explode out of my mouth.
“I am Alianza.”
This is all I could remember before
I fell into a deep sleep.
I’ve always know I was dreaming by
the thickness of the air and the feeling of deep rest inside. In this
particular dream it was night, and the air felt like a warm blanket wrapped
around my skin. There is a tall pine in the middle of a very dry desert and it
reminds me of my grandmother. As I appear above these images they are unclear
and it appears as if they are all under a smoking mirror. As I look down I can
feel scars blooming all over my body like morning glories but instead of the
sun light awakening them it is the dark images behind this mirror. There are so
many negative thoughts running through my mind, like the feeling of shame,
guilt and desperation. The thoughts are really like bad memories flashing past
real quickly. With the bad memories open up right and left demons appear that I
haven’t see in a long time. I can hear them land introduce me to the land,
Mictlan is what they say its name is and Tezcatlipoca will visit me before the
end.
Frantically I am looking for
salvation from the pain of the open wounds and the negativity. I need water to
clean them and some type of ointment to relieve the pain. I need to escape
their presence, but everywhere I run they are one step behind me. They are so
close, they are so close, what am I going to do, help someone help. Run up the
stairs Alicia, into the sky they can not follow you. I run up clear stairs into
the sky, each step like mud under my feet. As I rise I notice a corn field not
too far. While swimming in the sky to this small patch of corn stalks that is
located in the middle of the universe my heart starts to calm and the pain
seems to wash away. The air feels so nice against my skin and I feel my body
turning back to deep rest as the corn field disappears. The sky smells like
dark ocean water, and I began to remember my adoration for the raging sea. Moving
my arms up and down I began to stroke the air like water until I find myself
unable to breathe. I decide to swim higher, maybe this is just a suffocating
layer that I can escape. Up and up my arms push for the freedom to breathe
again. There seems to be a bright light high above and I reach for it. As soon
as I feel the light’s warmth on my skin I start to breathe air back into my
lungs. I see land ahead and I continue to swim until I feel solid ground under
my toes. Reaching the shore makes me realize my own exhaustion and my feet drag
me onto the wet sands. Once ashore I was stopped in my tracks by the gorgeous
green mass of the jungle around me. The jungle seemed to have this ancient
feeling about it, like it has been shielded from human sight for many years,
untouched and overgrown.
I
feel a sense of home, like I have been here once, during a daydream or a soft
made up memory and I can feel the presence of a best friend near. I can feel
her heart racing and her paws pounding on my luscious rain forest ground.
Something about everything feels normal, a familiar narcissistic dream that
clings to my skin like sweat glands, while I race for my ego’s sake. She runs
as fast as my dream can keep up with her, she needs no introduction to my
heart. The black coat shining like freshly cleansed amour. Her whiskers brush
against the leaves and bark, communicating a sense of longing for my presence.
Her bear-like ears and square-like spots tell me she is jaguar coming to play
with me. I race into the depths of the forest to try and find her, only to
realize she is running alongside me like a shadow. We jump into a tall tree and
run along its limb, I can feel a sense of playfulness about me. I am playing a
game except I don’t know how to win so I try and run faster to see if it is a
race for ego’s sake. Jumping from tree to tree I have no fear of falling. The
faster I run the deeper I feel I am falling into a loving embrace.
Our race ends as we both collapse
on the ground, my breathe full of laughter. Our eyes are caught by a single
star raised above a huge mountain; its side looks rich with fresh water and
berries. I let the light of the star guide me through my path, the jaguar right
next to me. As I pick berries, Jaguar drinks from the stream. I am sitting
content on an open patch of grass when the stream begins to rise vertically,
like another mirror. Behind this wall of water is an image of myself. I am
standing in the dry dessert again with the large pine tree that has by
grandmother’s presence. My brown eyes
look lost in thought and my body is in a fighting stance. There are open
bleeding wounds. Jaguar and I sit still, like an audience to a performance as
she began to recite us a poem:
Jaguar Dreams
I keep having dreams ,
they are my pills
that act swiftly against the
headaches of life.
The last dream made its purpose
clear
of its intentions…
I am Coatlicue, reborn human Xicana
with the ability to call on Jaguar
Spirit
to protect the people of the earth,
to heal La Raza Cosmica.
My jaguar skin expands twice the
size
than what is known for the jaguar
to grow,
the coral white of my teeth
are like ancient stone knives,
prepped for hunt.
My eyes the dark green of jade.
My gaze caresses the soul into
entrapment
if you look straight into them.
To all my enemies,
I can not kill you without
digesting your hearts
so that it can be reborn out of me
to your soul,
your hands must be swallowed whole,
so they can toil the earth of my
spirit,
to remember what their true purpose
is.
Only in the form of Jaguar can I
call out
to the Mujeres of the earth
to join me in a war against a
common enemy.
We enter war until the 5th moon has
finally resigned,
and the 6th sun enters the new
cycle of the wombyn.
Humanity is reborn,
brought forth by the force of La
Mujere
in the form of animal Jaguar.
I am not a heroine,
nor a tool for bad intent.
I am shape-shifter
that eat the hearts and hands of
those
that poison the maize.
Those that have fallen our victims
are truly victims of their own bad
intentions.
I am not a savior,
a killer,
flesh-eater,
asked to remain for all eternity
as stone in the temple gates
to protect humanity
from returning to its loss of hope.
I think about this dream
and remember my own plight again,
those that poison my milpa,
my cultivated flesh.
I can no longer be ignorant
to the poison that ruins my crop.
The struggle within that causes the
headaches
is really frustration
of allowing my fields to be taken
without so much as a NO!
and it makes me think…
of what I really am inside.
It
was then that I woke.
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